Classic Poem

When Adam delf,
And Eve span,
Spir, if thou will spede,
Whare was than
The pride of man
That now merres his mede?
Of erth and slame,
Als was Adam,
Maked to noyes and nede,
Ar we als he
Maked to be,
Whil we this lif shall lede.
With I and E,
Born ar we,
Als Salomon us hight,
To travel here,
Whils we ar fere,
Als fowls to the flight.

In worlde we ware
Cast for to care,
To we be broght to wende
Till wele or wa--
An of tha twa--
To won withouten ende.
Forthy, whils thou
May helpe thee now,
Amend thee and haf minde
When thou shall ga
He bese thy fa
That ar was here thy frende.
With E and I,
I rede, forthy,
Thou think upon thies thre,
What we are,
And what we ware,
And what we shall be.

War thou als wise,
Praised in price,
Als was Salomon,
Fairer fode
Of bone and blode
Then was Absalon,
Strengthy and strang
To wreke thy wrang
Als ever was Sampson,
Thou ne might a day,
Na mare then thay,
Dede withstand allon.
With I and E,
Dede to thee
Shall com, als I thee kenne.
Thou ne wate
In what state,
How, ne whare, ne when.

Of erth aght
That thee was raght
Thou shall not have, I hete,
Bot seven fote
Therin to rote,
And thy windingshete.
Forthy gif
Whils thou may lif,
Or all gase that thou gete--
Thy gast fra God,
Thy godes olod,
Thy flesh fouled under fete.
With I and E,
Siker thou be
That thy secutours
Of thee ne will rek,
Bot skelk and skek
Full boldly in thy bowrs.

Of welth and wit
This shall be hitt,
In world that thou here wroght.
Reckon thou mon
And yelde reson
Of thing that thou here thoght.
May no falas
Help in this case,
Ne counsel getes thou noght;
Gift ne grace
Nane thare gase,
Bot brok als thou hase boght.
With I and E,
The Boke biddes thee,
Man, beware of thy werkes:
Terme of the yere
Hase thou nan here,
Thy mede bese ther thy merkes.

What may this be
That I here se,
The fairehede of thy face?
Thy ble so bright,
Thy main, thy might,
Thy mouth that miry mas?
All mon als was
To powder passe,
To dede, when thou gase;
A grisely geste
Bese than thy breste
In armes til enbrase.
With I and E,
Siker thou be
Thare es nane, I thee hete,
Of all thy kith
Wald slepe thee with
A night under shete.